Broken Pedestal
by Lt. Basil
Summary: They've escaped Umbara. The traitor has been revealed. And the Commander of the Eternal Alliance is hurting. Spoilers for Crisis on Umbara.


**Description: They've escaped Umbara. The traitor has been revealed. And the Commander of the Eternal Alliance is hurting.**

 **Characters: Jedi K., Lana B., Koth V., Theron S., Sith W.**

 **Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort**

 **Rating: T**

 **Pairings: None really. Brief mention of M!JK/Kira and Fem!JK/Theron**

 **Trigger warnings: Depression, mild language, child abuse references**

 **Spoilers for Crisis on Umbara. You have been warned.**

 **Enjoy.**

It took over an hour for Lana to manage to get the broken homing beacon from the wreckage of the train working again, but eventually she and Tasir managed to get a line through to Odessen explaining that they were stranded on Umbara and were in desperate need of extraction. Within a day, Koth had the Gravestone right on their location to pick them up.

At the sight of a bedraggled Lana and Tasir clinging to a handful of containers full of adegan crystals and Theron nowhere to be found, the Zakuulan frowned in confusion. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but one look at the hardness in Lana's eyes and the numbness in the Commander's caused him to clamp it shut. Shaking his head, he gestured for Len and Tora to help them bring the crystals on board.

As the three crewmates and Lana set to work, Koth noticed Tasir sink down onto a crate and put his head in his hands. He made no move to assist them. He didn't even seem to notice that they were _there._ The man merely sat there, silently shaking and refusing to look up as his comrades moved around him. There was a glazed look in his eyes that Koth had never seen before - and he was worried.

Tasir didn't move for the entirety of their flight home. He didn't look at anyone. He didn't speak, didn't even acknowledge anyone else's presence no matter what they did to try to get him to pay attention to them. It was like he was in some sort of trance. Koth had never seen him like this - not when HK died, not when Scorpio betrayed them, not even when Vaylin killed one of their closest comrades right before his eyes when she attacked Odessen all those months back.

It scared him.

Something had happened to Theron. That much was obvious. But Koth didn't have a clue what it was. Tasir was unresponsive, and Lana wasn't talking, and he himself was at a loss over what the hell he was supposed to do about it. Theron had always been good at getting people to answer questions and pay attention when he was talking to them - but Theron wasn't here, and as his fate seemed to be the reason behind the Commander's funk in the first place, the point was moot anyway.

Lana, for her part, tried to be there for her friend as best as she could. She pulled up a crate and sat across from him, folding her hands in her lap and watching him quietly. Tasir gave no indication that he realized she was there. But she didn't let that deter her - she stayed where she was, trusting that if the Commander wanted to speak, he would do so - and if he didn't, well… considering what had just happened, now was not the time to push him. That would wait for their return to Odessen.

For now, he needed some time to process everything.

It seemed like half the base was waiting for them when they finally docked back at home. There were quite a few important faces - Aygo and Hylo Viz, most notably, but also Vette, Jorgan, T7, Arcann and Senya, Laren Ciell aka Valkorian's former wrath and Tasir's best friend, and his brother Samus, aka Darth Imperious and Tasir's second-in-command.

And at the front of the group was Yanima Rheek, Theron's girlfriend and Tasir's long-time friend and partner-in-crime. She was wringing her hands nervously and looking concerned as her eyes swept over the sorry-looking group. The Commander flinched at the sight of her.

This was not going to be fun.

Laren was the first one to speak when the Commander finally stepped down onto the deck. "Tasir? Are you okay?" The Jedi said nothing, causing his Sith friend to frown. "What happened?" the man pressed. His eye swept the group behind him, noting a particularly important member of their group who was conspicuously absent. His eye narrowed.

"Tasir… where's Theron?"

The Pureblood flinched and looked away.

Yanima spoke this time, taking a step closer to her friend as panic began to overtake her voice. "Where is he, Tasir?"

The Outlander stared at his feet.

Yanima gritted her teeth and balled her hands into fists.

"Answer me!"

But Tasir didn't. He clenched his teeth and shook his head, shoving his way past the crowd as he stalked toward the entrance to the cantina, ignoring the stunned expressions of the onlookers and pretending not to hear Yanima shout his name after him in an effort to make him turn around and answer the question. The Mirialan made to go after him but was stopped by Lana, who had slipped out of the ship and onto the deck in all the hubbub and was now right beside her and grasping her arm, effectively holding her in place. The Jedi turned and glowered at her but said nothing when Lana gave her a sharp, warning glance.

"Give the Commander some room," she said softly. "The last mission has left him very… shaken." She held up a hand when the others starting shouting in protest, demanding to know just what the hell was going on. A single gesture and the crowd fell silent, watching her expectantly.

"I promise, everything will be explained soon," she said calmly, looking over her compatriots and trying to sound more confident than she felt. "For now, just know that Theron was unable to return with us."

"So… he's alive?" Yanima asked hopefully. Her eyes were huge and pleading. Knowing what had just happened, the hope visible in them was absolutely heartbreaking.

Lana sighed. "Yes," she said quietly. "He's alive."

"Then where - ?"

" _Later._ " Force knows she wasn't ready to explain everything right now. Tasir wasn't the only one who needed time to process this. "Please, everyone, just… be patient."

And with that, Lana pushed past them and headed off to the war room, hoping to get a little peace of her own before the real storm hit.

XXX

Laren found Tasir slumped in a corner booth near the back of the cantina, staring blankly at an untouched glass of Corellian brandy. The Pureblood was a wreck. His auburn hair was tangled and dirty, his orange-red skin was sallow and pasty, his pale, catlike eyes were bleary and bloodshot and there were dark circles beneath them. His shoulders were slumped in defeat.

Laren had known Tasir for well over a decade. The only members of this Alliance who had known the guy longer than he did were T7, Rusk and Yanima, and none of them knew the man as well as him. The former Emperor's Wrath prided himself in the fact that he knew the Commander's mind better than the man himself did, and far better than either Lana or Theron knew it. He was pretty sure that the only (probably) living person who knew Tasir better than he did was the Jedi's wife.

That being said, in all the thirteen plus years of their acquaintance, Laren had never seen Tasir look anywhere near as depressed as he did right now. He looked worse than he had after getting brainjacked by the evil ghost that had been living in his head and literally fighting a battle to the death inside his own mind. Heck, he looked worse than he had after he found out that his insane father had kidnapped his son and was holding the then-six-year-old hostage inside the very same torture facility that he had been kept in as a child. His face was as blank as a fresh sheet of flimsiplast and he was completely still, not even twitching as he sad there in a brooding silence.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Laren forced a grin and remarked, "You know, I always thought that brooding was supposed to be my thing. Not yours."

Tasir didn't react.

Laren tried again. "If you keep glowering like that your face is going to get stuck that way."

Tasir ignored him.

"I do hope you'll stop scowling so hard at that poor brandy," Laren continued, a little desperately now. "You'll give the poor thing a complex."

Tasir glanced up and glared at him. "Shut up," he growled.

Laren smirked and put his hands on his hips. "The silent one finally speaks," he remarked flippantly, taking the seat across from his moping friend now that the man seemed to have rediscovered the existence of his vocal cords. "I was starting to worry that you'd gone mute."

Tasir scowled. "Go away, Laren."

Laren shook his head vigorously. "Not until you tell me what the hell is going on." He folded his hands in front of him on the table, suddenly serious. "Where's Theron? What happened over there?"

Tasir put his head on the table and wrapped his arms around it, like he was trying to defend it from an invisible blow. "I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled despondently, his voice muffled by the fabric of his sleeves.

Laren sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "You're going to have to talk about it eventually, Commander," he informed him, gently placing a hand on one of his friend's trembling shoulders.

"I said I don't want to talk!"

Laren jerked his hand back, his single brown eye widening in shock.

Tasir had never yelled at him before.

Tasir _didn't yell._

Which meant that whatever happened must have been even worse than Laren had initially thought. Because Tasir had NEVER been like this before. EVER. Losing Theron certainly would have merited the depressed funk, but he wasn't sure if that was enough to get the guy to actually raise his voice… plus Lana had said that Theron was still alive anyway, so why…

Laren's eye widened.

Oh no.

Nonononono, this was not good, it had to be wrong, this was THERON they were talking about, there was no way in the nine hells that he would EVER do something like that, he was one of Tasir's best friends and he had helped build the Alliance in the first place, he… he wouldn't… he would never…

"Tasir…" he said quietly, dreading the answer. "Is Theron the traitor?"

The Jedi's silence was all the answer the former Sith needed.

Laren couldn't believe it. "But… no, this is Theron. He couldn't… he _wouldn't…_ maybe… maybe you just misinterpreted something…"

Tasir went deathly quiet. His brows furrowed. His arms started to shake. His lips pressed in a firm line.

"He tried to shoot me," he hissed. "He successfully shot Lana, AND he blew up the train WHILE WE WERE STILL ON IT. Plus he sicced a big-ass spider droid on us." He gritted his teeth. "That doesn't leave a lot of room for interpretation, Ciell."

Laren squeezed his eyes shut as he processed this information. His fingers curled into fists. White hot rage boiled up inside him, flooding his system and making his vision go red as the pure fury began to overload his brain and his heart started to hammer and blood roared in his ears and…

"I'm going to kill him."

Tasir looked up in alarm. "What?" he demanded, his eyes going round. "No!"

"Why not?" Laren snapped angrily. "He's a fekking traitor. He deserves it."

But Tasir shook his head vigorously. "We are NOT going to kill him!" he said sharply. Laren glowered.

"But he -"

"NO!"

"Why are you protecting him? He tried to kill you!"

"I know!"

"Then why spare him?"

"BECAUSE IT'S THERON, YOU IDIOT!"

Silence fell. The two men glared at each other, at odds in a manner that only close friends can truly be. Both were panting hard, certain they were right but daring the other to change their minds.

Tasir's eyes were wild, and his face was filled with pain. But he could tell that Laren wasn't going to accept that for an answer. The Sith had always been a bit touchy when it came to betrayal.

Tasir sighed. "Because… because despite the shit he just pulled he's… he's still…" He shook his head and looked away, rapidly deflating. The man wilted, putting his head in his arms again.

"He was my friend, once," he said, softly, brokenly, his voice no more than a shattered rasp of intense pain. "I have to believe that I can still reach him." A single tear slipped down the Outlander's face. "I can't just pretend that none of what we went through together ever happened," he choked out. "Maybe he can. But that's not me."

"He deserves to die!" Laren spat. But Tasir shrugged.

"If I always gave people what they deserved, this Alliance would be a whole lot emptier," he said softly, lifting his head to give his friend a pointed look. Laren shut his mouth abruptly.

"Still…" the Sith muttered, looking anywhere but at those annoyingly knowing cat-eyes. "He's a threat to all of us. We can't ignore that just because he _used_ to be your friend."

"I know that," Tasir said quietly, staring forlornly at his still-full glass once again.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Laren pressed.

Tasir closed his eyes tightly. "I don't know."

The duo fell silent, then, staring off into space as a suffocating melancholy blanketed the cantina. Everyone in the room had heard Tasir's outburst earlier - chances were that pretty soon Theron's betrayal was going to be common knowledge. And neither man wanted to think about what that might mean for the Alliance - one of their founding members turning on them was going to be a serious blow to morale, and who knew how many people would follow in Theron's footsteps if the situation wasn't dealt with the right way. Not to mention the havoc Theron's knowledge of the inner workings of the Alliance could wreak if he were to give that information to a third party… like, say, the Empire…

Tasir shook his head. For all of his concerns about Theron's behavior, he sort of doubted that the man would go that far. The SIS agent had never been a big fan of the Empire and telling them how to break through Odessen's defenses probably wouldn't do anything for Theron's "dreams of peace", so maybe… maybe they were safe? Then again, Tasir couldn't be sure if he even knew his former friend anymore… or if he had ever known him the begin with…

"You gonna drink that?" Tasir jumped, opening his eyes to see Laren gesturing at the full glass with his head. Wordlessly, the Pureblood pushed the brandy across the table. Laren picked it up and took a deep swig.

"You might want to get another for yourself," the Sith remarked flatly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I have a feeling things are going to get pretty crazy around here before long."

Tasir sighed deeply.

Indeed they were.

 **I know I'm not the only one who was pissed off about that reveal in CoU. So here I am, laying out the various stages of my reaction by making my normally happy-sweet-fluffy Jedi get all grumpy and depressed and snappish in a manner which is kind of out of character for him… seriously he is not usually this angsty. I mean, the guy IS angsty, his life was crap before he met Kira and is becoming crap again now that the insanity brought about by "Fallen Empire" is kicking off, but he used to be so good at hiding it and keeping it under control but DANG IT THERON was the straw that broke the camel's back! Stupid Theron… I still can't help but kind of like the guy but FORCE I want to punch his face in really badly right now. Still holding onto hope that he's not actually the bad guy and he's doing this so that he can infiltrate this mysterious "order" (which had BETTER not be Revanites, or I might just break something), or maybe he's being mind-controlled or something and dangit I don't want to fight the guy! Punch him, sure… but not, you know, be his enemy. I like him too much T-T I am really starting to hate Bioware. First they make us choose between saving Torian and saving Vette, THEN they force us to side with either the Empire or the Republic even though I think we all wanted to tell both sides to piss off, and NOW they are having Theron - Theron! - stab you in the back and try to kill you? STUPID BIOWARE!**


End file.
